


Finding reasons not to leave

by stealing-jasons-job (changingthefairy_tale)



Series: Songs That Scream Bellarke [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bellarke, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changingthefairy_tale/pseuds/stealing-jasons-job
Summary: Based on the song Friends Don't by Maddie and Tae***When Abby is diagnosed with cancer, Clarke moves back to Arkadia, Texas, to help take care of her and her medical practice. Clarke had never planned to move back to her hometown, and she certainly never planned on wanting to stick around.But as she falls back into her old friend group, she finds herself feeling like she belongs somewhere for the first time in a long time. She tries not to attribute that to Bellamy, her childhood best friend's older brother and surprisingly her closest friend upon her returning to town.Some things never change, but Bellamy has. He's grown up, both in maturity and in looks, and Clarke finds herself falling for her best friend. But she can't risk starting something with her closest friend. What happens to them when she decides to leave again? Or worse, what happens if she decides she doesn't want to?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Songs That Scream Bellarke [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759135
Comments: 32
Kudos: 171
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	Finding reasons not to leave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [animmortalist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/gifts).



> Written as part of the t100 Writers for BLM initiative. The 100 fic writers and content creators are accepting prompts and WIP chapter update requests in exchange for donations to organizations that support the BLM cause. You can read more about the movement by checking out our [carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/), and you can stay updated by signing up for our [bi-weekly newsletter. ](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdhPO739cIGyPteR9f10YgjDZ9245ZDBFYPzURzjglEcz1VCg/viewform)

When Clarke moved back to Arkadia, Texas, she had little expectations for how she would fit back into her hometown. It had been six years since she'd stepped foot in the entire state of Texas, nonetheless the small town of Arkadia. She'd changed, and she was sure so had everyone else.

But the moment she walked into Murphy's her first night back in town, she felt an overwhelming notion that she was finally home. As Clarke smiled at the familiar face behind the bar, she tried not to think about whether that had anything to do with the freckled dimples smirking back at her.

"The prodigal princess returns," he announced, arms wide.

Clarke blushed, shaking her head at the dramatic showcase. “Six years, and you still can’t think of a better nickname.”

She took a seat at the empty stool in front of him, and he was already pouring her a whiskey and coke. 

“You remember?” 

“Some things never change,” he smirked. She looks around at the bar she spent the better part of her teenage years and college summers hanging out in. 

“I guess not,” she murmured, grinning. The place looked almost exactly how it did when she first left for Boston all those years ago. Same grungy booths, same muted lighting, same eclectic collection of license plates, road signs, framed maps, and neon signs hung from the wooden paneled walls… same bartender that made her drinks strong and her smile wide. 

There is one thing that has changed — Bellamy. Sure, he was still sporting a mop of curls and that freckled smirk. But he’d grown up, filled out. His shoulders were broader, his arms filling out his dark blue henley in a way that made heat rush to Clarke’s cheeks. His jaw was more chiseled, lined with a healthy dose of scruff. His hair was a little grown out, too. 

He looked good. Really good. 

Not that there was a time in Clarke’s memory when he didn’t. But she’d never thought about it much when she was younger. They were just kids, and he was her best friend’s older brother. That Bellamy was arrogant and annoying, constantly riling her up and getting on her nerves. 

And by the time she was old enough to notice, he was busy flirting his way through his entire senior class before going to college a few towns over and flirting his way through those classes, too. They eventually got to where they were friends when Clarke went to the same college, but that ended once she went off to med school. 

Escaped to med schools was more accurate, but that was beside the point. 

This Bellamy? Well, she didn’t know who this Bellamy was, yet. But she found herself leaning forward in her seat, wanting to find out. 

“I heard about Abby,” he said, growing serious for a moment as he wiped down the bartop. The smile dropped from her face as she nodded. Of course he’d heard. It was a small town, and news like that spread like wildfire. 

“Thanks. It’s...she’s… well, you know how my mom gets,” Clarke let out a dry laugh, taking a sip of her drink. “But I’m home now, and I’m going to help her with the practice while she’s getting chemo treatments. Marcus is doing his best to help take care of her, but he can’t exactly see her patients.” 

“So you’re sticking around for a while?” He had one eyebrow raised, almost as if he was expecting her to disappear at any moment. She guessed she deserved that, considering how quickly she vanished the last time she was in town. 

“You’re stuck with me.” Clarke ignored the way his grin in response made her stomach flip. Instead, she changed the subject. “Give me the cliff notes. What’s everyone up to these days?” 

He filled her in on life in Arkadia. Octavia was still deployed, though Clarke knew that from her letters. Octavia was her closest and oldest friend, and she was the only one Clarke had stayed in touch with after she left. Granted, Octavia was the only one who wouldn’t let Clarke shut her out. 

Raven had taken over the mechanic shop on 5th St. after Sinclair retired. Miller was a deputy sheriff, following in his dad’s footsteps. Murphy had bought the bar that he was named after, refusing to change anything about it, in true Murphy fashion. But he was also married and his new wife Emori was expecting, which was certainly not in Murphy fashion. Monty and Jasper had both moved back just over a year ago, wanting to start families in the quiet down of Arkadia rather than in the city. 

“Basically the whole gang is back together,” Clarke couldn’t help but laugh as he finished. 

“We were just missing you, Princess,” he teased, that stupid smirk back on his face. She rolled her eyes playfully, sipping on her Jack and Coke. 

“And what about you, Gramps? Still running the bar, I see.” 

He shook his head at his own old nickname, but Clarke just raised her eyebrows in challenge. Two can play the nickname game. 

“I fill in for Murphy when he goes to Emori’s doctor’s appointments with her, but I actually bought that old building down on Main and turned it into a coffee shop and bookstore.” He looked down at the bartop as he said the last part, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“That was always the dream, right?” she said, ducking her head to force him to meet her eyes. “I’m glad you got to turn it into a reality, Bellamy.” 

When they were kids, Bellamy and Octavia didn’t like spending much time at home. Bellamy would take them to the library. Once Octavia hit junior high, she started playing sports as her own way to avoid home, but Bellamy continued to spend as much free time as possible there. It had long been a dream of his to open up a bookstore where people could go to escape in the same way the old library was for him. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, giving her a shy smile. “Even named it Changing the Fairytale.” 

She blinked, momentarily thrown by his admission. Clarke can’t help the dopey smile that consumes her face, and she quickly drops her head in her hands to cover her initial reaction.

“I get drunk  _ one time _ my entire undergrad, and of course you remember every stupid thing that came out of my mouth,” she accused mockingly, throwing her crumpled napkin across the bar at him. He batted it away easily, laughing. 

Her junior year, right before Spring finals, Murphy had complained that she never let loose or had any fun. Never one to back down from a challenge, Clarke had decided to prove him wrong. She could be fun, lots of fun. 

Well, half a dozen empty shot glasses later, and Clarke had been by all accounts hammered. She’d rarely drank back then, and her 5’5 frame had not prepared for that much liquor. Bellamy had been sweet enough to take care of her that night while she rambled on and on in her drunken state. 

One of her ramblings had been about hopes and dreams for the future — including Bellamy’s bookstore. She’d made the argument that he should name it Changing the Fairytale since it was his goal to change the outcome of kids’ lives who wanted a place to escape to another world when they needed it. 

It was a stupid idea, one she never imagined he’d take to heart. And yet… 

  
  


“Well, it sounds like everything turned out as planned,” she murmured, trying hard to ignore the way her heart bloomed a little at the idea that even after all these years, he named his dream store after her. Or her suggestion, at least. 

His returning smile didn’t quite meet his eyes, though. Instead, he busied himself drying glasses with the towel that had been thrown over his shoulder. 

“Almost.” There was something in his voice that sounded almost...wistful. But she was probably just projecting. Before she could contemplate it any more, he’d set down the glass he was working on and put that charming half-grin back in place.

Clarke took that as a sign it was time for her to go, and pushed back away from the bar. She needed to get back home to talk about stuff with her mom anyway. 

“I better get back to Mom,” she said a little awkwardly, pulling down her dress where it had ridden up from sitting. Bellamy just nodded. When she tried to hand over a few bills for her drink, he pushed her hand back. 

“On the house. Welcome home, Princess.” 

_______________________ 

Originally, Clarke had been nervous about seeing everyone again, but the first night out together had put those fears to rest. Within minutes, Murphy was mocking her about something, and Jasper was yapping her ear off about his wife Maya and how they had to meet. 

It was easy, relaxed, fun. It was almost like they’d been saving a spot for her, waiting for the day she’d come back and fit right back into her slot within the group. And it turned out that slot was next to Bellamy. 

Immediately, they’d gravitated toward one another again. He’d bring her lunch and force her to eat during busy days at the clinic. Nights when her stepdad Marcus promised he was good to take care of her mom alone, she’d go over to his house to watch history documentaries on his couch. When everyone went out to Murphy’s for beers, they’d always save her a seat next to his. 

And she felt...happy. She thought she’d hate coming back to Arkadia, afraid she’d see it as giving up on her dreams of becoming a surgeon in Boston far away from her old life. But instead, she found herself feeling like she belonged here in a way she never did in New England. 

Around a month after she moved home, Clarke found herself surrounded by her oldest friends laughing harder than she had in years. They were all over at Raven’s loft that she’d taken over above the shop just goofing off. 

It was nice to catch up with everyone. They, thankfully, all mostly avoided the subject of her mom, instinctively knowing Clarke wouldn’t want to talk about it. Either Bellamy had prepped them beforehand, or they just knew her better than she thought they did. It was honestly a toss-up on which it could be. 

“Alright, Clarkey. You’re up,” Jasper bows illustratively, extending Miller’s beanie that had been filled with charades prompts. She took one, rolling her eyes at Jasper’s antics, before pushing herself up off the couch to stand in front of the group. 

How on earth was she going to get this one? She thought about it for a second, but then an idea hit her. Giggling in her tipsy state, she nodded at Monty to start the timer. 

Immediately, she dropped to her knee as if proposing, locking eyes with Bellamy.  _ God, I hope he remembers this.  _ After a few seconds on the ground, she then collapses over as if she fainted. 

“High school gym!” he announced, standing up victoriously when Clarke reanimated with a cackle, nodding. 

“How the hell did you get that?! Even I barely remember that!” Raven all but screamed, obviously pissed frustrated. It had been happening all night, this back and forth with Clarke and Bellamy. They’d partnered up as soon as they got there and had been wiping the floor with the competition. 

“The real question is who the hell let them partner up? Don’t tell me you all forgot about their weird telepathy,” Murphy grumbled, leaning throwing back the rest of his beer. Clarke and Bellamy met each other’s eyes as Clarke plopped back into her spot on the couch, grinning like idiots at the memory. 

Clarke still hadn’t recovered fully from her intoxicated giggle-fest over that memory. Her high school boyfriend Finn had done this stupidly dramatic promposal her sophomore year in the middle of her volleyball practice in the high school gym. Octavia was in the middle of recording it when in walks in Raven Reyes, the newest transfer student from the next town over. 

Turned out, Finn was dating both girls at the same time. When Finn saw Raven, he actually passed out. Straight up fainted like a first-year watching their first autopsy. Clarke had been devastated — Finn was her first boyfriend. Octavia had sent the video to Bellamy, who invited both of them up to his dorm room for the weekend. Octavia wouldn’t stop reenacting Finn’s fainting after “prom-posing,” which kept Clarke laughing all weekend. 

That weekend with O and Bell turned out to be one of Clarke’s best memories from high school, even if all they did was veg out on Bellamy’s dorm food and watch his weird history documentaries all weekend curled up on his bed together. 

“See! They’re doing it right now!” Jasper’s voice pulled Clarke from her memory, and she forced herself to look away from Bellamy.  _ We do not stare at our best friend’s older brothers when drunk. Or when we’re sober, for that matter. Bad, Clarke.  _

She hid her blush behind her drink as she takes a healthy swig of whatever concoction Monty and Jasper brought to game night. The next morning, she’d 10/10 regret her choices to trust them, but tonight she was buzzed and having fun. 

Raven and Miller went next, but after 30 seconds of him looking like he’s having a heart attack the timer goes off. 

  
“How could you not get Harry Potter!?” he exploded at Raven the second Monty turned off the timer. She just looked thoroughly confused and frustrated. 

“I’ve neither read nor watched Harry Potter, Miller! And how in the hell was I supposed to guess that from you waving your arms around like a madman?!” She was yelling back just as loudly, and everyone was in fits of laughter. 

“I was casting a spell!” 

The rest of the room was doubled over in laughter as they bickered about how to properly show spell casting without a wand, and Clarke couldn’t help but steal a glance over at Bellamy. He was already watching Clarke, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“It’s not your fault, guys. Not everyone is at our level,” Bellamy teased Raven and Miller, shifting his focus back to the pair in front of the TV. 

The rest of the night passed in an alcohol-induced haze. She let whatever Monty and Jasper had put into their concoction to its work, helping Clarke forget about the stress of work and her mother’s cancer. She laughed at Jasper's jokes and teased Murphy about becoming domesticated. 

And when it was time to go, she let Bellamy walk her back to his place when he insists that she was too drunk to drive (he wasn’t wrong). He set her up in his guest room, lending her one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers to sleep in. 

“I think I look better in these than you do,” she commented brazenly when she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. She was drunk, but she wasn’t drunk enough to not hydrate before bed to avoid a hangover in the morning. 

“You know what, Princess? I think you’re right.” 

The way his eyes skated up her bare legs to her face, that annoyingly attractive flirtatious grin plastered on his face, made her feel fuzzy on the inside.

As she finished her drink, they both just stood there studying each other. They were only a few feet apart, frozen in some weird game of emotional chicken — looking at each other as if daring the other to make a move. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked suddenly, the edge of his mouth turning up in the smallest of smiles as he watched her with those intense brown eyes of his. 

“I did. It’s been nice, seeing everyone again.” 

He nodded, that smile growing just a fraction. “It’s good to have you home, Clarke.” 

Silence stretched between them again in the dark kitchen. She knew she should move, should go to bed, should run as far and as fast as she could from the way those dark brown eyes made her heart beat erratically in her chest. 

But the part of her brain that would have normally told her this was a bad idea, that friends didn’t stare at each other like this at 3 AM, was still too inebriated to convince her to do anything but stay put. 

He broke first, looking away after what could have been minutes or hours — Clarke couldn’t tell. 

“We should get some sleep,” he said quietly. And she knew he was right, but part of her wished he’d said something else. 

When neither of them moved for another few seconds, Clarke took that as her cue put her glass in the sink and retreat from the kitchen. But she stopped at the doorway, turning to look at him. He was still watching her, that same unreadable expression on his face. 

“It’s good to be home.” 

_______________________ 

It had been the longest day at the clinic. Clarke had woken up early to calls about a little girl named Charlotte having fallen out of her bed during a nightmare and broken her arm. It wasn’t serious enough to make the drive to the full-fledged hospital a couple of towns over, but she’d needed immediate care. And the patients hadn’t stopped since. 

Clarke was essentially dead on her feet and in need of an escape, and she found herself driving toward downtown without really thinking about it. The two-story brick building at the end of Main St. came into view, the newer-looking sign reading “Changing the Fairytale Coffee & Books” contrasting against the older architecture even in the dim light from the streetlamp. 

For a moment as she parked, Clarke panicked at the sudden realization that the store itself was probably closed. But Bellamy’s old pickup truck was parked outside, which meant he was still inside. 

The door was unlocked, and she cautiously pushed it open. The bell signaling a new customer dinged loudly, and Clarke could hear a faint  _ fuck _ come from somewhere near the back of the book side of the store. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d been to the store, but it was the first time she’d been there after hours. There was a sereneness to the store when there were no people around — just pages filled with possibilities and the smell of coffee. 

“We’re closed! Sorry about —” Bellamy’s voice cut off when he saw that it was Clarke at the door. His eyebrows drew together immediately in concern. “Is everything okay?” 

Clarke just stood there for a second, taking him in with a stupid grin on her face. He was wearing an open plaid button-down over a worn white t-shirt, the sleeves pushed up haphazardly to his elbows. He was wearing his reading glasses, and his hair was an absolute mess, which told Clarke he’d been messing with it while focusing on something else. 

It reminded her of a different Bellamy, a different time. Hell, a different Clarke. 

“Clarke?” he prompted again when she didn’t answer right away. That snapped her out of it, and she shook her head. 

  
“Sorry, yeah. Everything’s fine. Just had a long day and needed…” she trailed off, wondering what exactly she needed and why she thought she’d get it from Bellamy’s store after closing. 

“An escape?” he asked, one side of his mouth quirking up. 

“Yeah, something like that.” She bit her lip to keep from smiling back at him like an idiot.  _ Get it together, Griffin.  _

He gestured for her to follow him, and he led her back to where he’d been hiding out when she came in. In the back corner of the store on the second floor, there was a reading nook next to the window. A few chairs and oversized beanbags scattered around a coffee table, and Clarke noticed that one beanbag chair was sporting a Bellamy-sized indention.

Clarke walked over to pick up the worn copy of  _ Lord of the Flies _ from where it sat on the corner of the coffee table. 

“Still your favorite, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, a hand reaching up to rub at the nape of his neck. “Something about the idea of a bunch of teenage delinquents trying and failing to govern themselves is fascinating to me, no matter how many times I read it.” 

Bellamy had always been a book nerd. It was one of the first things that endeared him to Clarke when they were younger — he was this tough guy full of bravado, but he was also one of the most well-read people Clarke had ever met. 

She handed the book back to him before plopping down in the beanbag next to his, motioning for him to sit back down. “I won’t keep you from your millionth reread,” she teased. 

They sat in silence for a while, nothing but the sounds of the occasional car passing by outside and Bellamy turning a page filling the space. Clarke relaxed back, closing her eyes and letting herself breathe and decompress. 

She theoretically could have done that at home, but she always felt guilty when she wasn’t doing something when she was there. She could be making sure her mom was comfortable, or that she had her meds taken care of for the night, or helping sort through her things — a task Abby had decided to focus on since stopping working at the clinic. She was supposed to be focusing on treating her cancer, but she’d insisted that she wasn’t built to stay still. 

And if Abby wasn’t staying still, then how could Clarke? 

After a few minutes of Clarke not hearing the steady turning of pages, she opened her eyes. Bellamy was watching her with that unreadable look on his face again. 

“You’re not reading,” she pointed out, half teasing. 

“Can I ask you something?” his voice was soft, a low timbre in their dimly lit corner of the store. 

“Always.” 

“Why’d you come here instead of going home?” It wasn’t an accusation. He seemed genuinely curious as to why she’d made the drive across town to his store knowing it was closed rather than turning the other way to go to her house. 

She didn’t really have an answer. The truth was she got in her car, and her body just sort of drove there on autopilot. It was as if her subconscious knew she needed the solace of this store — and the person who owned it, if she was being honest with herself — after her long day. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged noncommittally, not willing to tell him any of that. “Like you said...I just needed an escape.” 

He continued watching her, studying her. The way his eyes were searching hers made her want to do dangerous things — things like leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. 

She shook that thought from her mind as soon as it entered. No. She and Bellamy were friends. In fact, he’d been her closest friend since she’d come back to town months ago. There would be no kissing. 

Eventually, he broke eye contact. “You’re good at that,” he murmured, almost so quiet that Clarke didn’t hear him. 

“What do you mean?” 

He sighed heavily, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. When he made eye contact with her again after a few seconds, she could see the hesitation behind the question he was about to ask. 

“Is that what Arkadia is? An escape from your real life?” 

Clarke sat up at that, the flush of anger rising up her neck instantly. “You think coming home to help take care of my mom while she’s dying of cancer is, what? A vacation for me?” 

“No, that’s — shit. That’s not what I meant,” he huffs out, obviously frustrated. “I just…” he trails off, looking around as if the words he wants to say will pop out from the shelves of books that surround him. Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, trying to make sense of how he was acting. 

After another few seconds, he takes another deep breath. “I guess I’m just wondering if I should worry about you disappearing on me again.” 

Clarke deflated at that, closing her eyes. 

“Bellamy…” 

“I get why you left all those years ago,” he shrugged. “You’d just lost your dad and Wells… and med school in Boston was the fresh start you needed to heal. I get it, I do. But… you didn’t just leave Arkadia.” 

She immediately reached out to take his hand in hers. “I wasn’t trying to leave  _ you _ , any of you. I just… I needed to be somewhere else. Where nobody knew my name or my family. Where people didn’t look at me with pity in their eyes.” 

Bellamy’s eyes were locked on where their hands were intertwined, and Clarke almost pulled her hand back, worried that she’d crossed some line. But then those brown eyes found hers again, and she forgot about everything else but the way he was looking at her with something that resembled hope. 

“And now you’re back.” 

“Now I’m back,” she repeated. 

“For good?” 

Once again, she didn’t know the answer to that. Of course, she’d stay as long as her mom needed her. But when she got better? Or if the unthinkable happened, and she didn’t? Clarke had been running away for so long, she wasn’t sure she knew how to stay. 

But god if the way her hand fit in his didn’t make her want to. That was a scary thought in and of itself. Friends didn’t hold hands like that, or look at each other like the other’s eyes held the answers to questions they didn’t even know to ask. 

“What if I was always supposed to leave?” she asked softly, her voice almost breaking at the end. His hand clutched hers a little tighter, as if she’d disappear right in front of his eyes if he didn’t hold on hard enough. 

“What if this time you’re supposed to stay?” 

_______________________ 

Fall was always Clarke’s favorite season in the South. In Arkadia, fall meant warm (but not unbearable) weather and the annual fall festival put on by the community center. This year’s festival was the first one Clarke had been to since before she left for Boston. 

The entirety of downtown gots taken over by the weekend event, and the whole town got involved each year. Clarke had come with her mom and stepdad, but Abby had shooed her off as soon as she’d seen Bellamy and Raven. 

“Go have fun with your friends. Marcus and I can manage on our own for the day,” she insisted. Clarke was hesitant, not wanting to abandon her mom, but the older Griffin woman just leveled her with an unimpressed look. “Go.” 

“I see my friends all the time. Today was supposed to be about family.” 

“Downtown isn’t that big, Clarke. I’m sure you’ll see us around,” Abby argued, rolling her eyes at Kane. The carnival was something they’d always done together, and it was starting to feel like it might be their last. 

Abby’s cancer had spread, and she’d started declining. She still had her good days, like today, but the bad days — the ones where she could barely move without wincing in pain — were growing in frequency. Clarke tried her best not to think about it, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was running out of time. 

“Your mother is in good hands, I promise. We’ll grab dinner together later. Go kick Bellamy’s ass at some carnival games,” he winked at her. With a huff, she left to catch up with the group. 

They wandered through the carnival like kids at a candy store, exploring even though the booths and games had remained the same each year their entire lives. Soon though, everyone had begun to pair off to do their own things. 

Raven and Miller were the only two brave enough to try any of the rusty rides. Monty and Harper wanted to ride the Ferris wheel, as did Maya and Jasper. And Emori had dragged Murphy away to satisfy her craving for deep-fried Oreos. 

That left Clarke and Bellamy. It had been a month since that night at the bookstore, and things had been...different. Not in a bad way, but there had been a fundamental shift in their relationship that night, in his admission that he’d been hurt that she left and in hers that she was scared of wanting to stay. 

They spent more time together after work and on the weekends. Changing the Fairytale became a sanctuary during hard days, and Bellamy’s kitchen started to feel more like home than her own. Suddenly, they were more open with each other, too. Clarke talked about her mom, and how worried she was for her. Bellamy talked about his fears for Octavia. 

Clarke found herself fiddling with her keys when it was time to leave after game nights at his place, and he would always take the backroads when he drove her home from movie nights. He’d quickly become her best friend, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. Because it felt… right. Like something was clicking into place for the first time, something she hadn’t even known was out of place to begin with. 

“Earth to Clarke?” a tan hand waving in front of her face snapped her out of her trance. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“Just wanted to know which game you wanted to try.” Bellamy’s lips pulled into a worried frown. “What’s wrong? Are you worried about your mom?” 

The concern written on his face made Clarke’s stomach do funny things. Things she didn’t want to think about. So instead she just pointed toward one of the booths with a smirk. “Just contemplating which game I want to kick your ass at first.” 

He didn’t look fully convinced, but he thankfully didn’t call her on it. 

Two rounds each of the Milk Bottle game, ax throwing (the only new addition to the carnival game lineup in over a decade), and the Ring Toss, they decided to call it a draw. Clarke had won both Milk Bottle games — thank you, high school softball. But Bellamy had beaten her at ax throwing. 

Clarke had sarcastically offered up her prize to him after she’d won the second round of Milk Bottles. Of course, he’d graciously returned the favor when he won ax throwing. Now Bellamy was walking around with an oversized stuffed purple unicorn under one arm while Clarke was sporting a Viking hat like a crown. 

Neither of them had any luck with the Ring Toss. 

“I swear it’s rigged,” he complained under his breath as they wandered around trying to find their friends once again. 

“Oh yeah, Mrs. McIntyre — the 90-year-old grandmother of our childhood friend — is scamming carnival-goers under the guise of fundraising for the senior center.” At Bellamy’s annoyed side-eye, Clarke couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping her mouth. 

“Got a degree in comedy while in Boston, too, Princess?” he deadpanned, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. 

They eventually caught up to their friends and spent the rest of the afternoon goofing off together like they were teenagers again. But Clarke broke off to eat dinner with her mom and Kane. 

“It makes me so happy to see you home again,” Abby said once Kane got up to refill their sweet teas. God, Clarke had missed sweet tea in Boston. Since coming home, she’d been guzzling it like water. 

“Thanks, Mom. It’s been good to be back,” she smiled back. 

“You know, I’ve noticed that you and Bellamy have gotten closer…” Clarke gave her mom a pleading look. 

“Mom, stop. We’re just friends.” 

Abby gave her daughter a look that said she wasn’t buying what Clarke was selling before nodding her toward the opposite side of the massive tent serving as the eating area for the carnival. When Clarke followed her gaze, her eyes met Bellamy’s. He gave a small smile before turning back to Jasper, who was gesturing wildly while telling some story. 

“Friends don’t look at each other like that, sweet pea,” her mom pointed out, a knowing grin plastered on her face. 

Clarke changed the subject, not wanting to talk about it. She wasn’t sure what she felt for Bellamy. Yes, they were close for friends. But she’d never felt this way for anyone she’d dated previously, people she’d loved. 

After it got dark, Abby and Kane went home — she got tired more easily these days, and she didn’t want to sit on the sidelines to watch everyone else dance and have a good time. Clarke had originally tried to go with them, but Abby had once again shooed Clarke toward her friends. 

“Be young. Drink, laugh, dance with your friends,” she insisted, and Clarke didn’t miss the pointed way she said  _ friends _ . With a sigh and a long hug, Clarke sent them off and went back to where her friends were congregated at one of the picnic tables out under the hanging lights crisscrossed over the streets. 

Monty handed her a drink without question, and she raised her eyebrows at Raven to check that whether she really wanted to take a sip of whatever they’d managed to put in that cup. 

“It’s just hard cider,” Raven chuckled. “Even Monty and Jasper couldn’t sneak moonshine past Mr. Lemkin for this.” 

A few drinks in, Clarke started to feel the perfect amount of buzzed. The kind the made her drag Harper and Raven and even Murphy out to the makeshift dance floor to dance along to the Luke Bryan cover the band was performing. 

Everyone else followed behind after watching for a few minutes, and suddenly Clarke found herself being spun out and back into a firm chest. Her and Bellamy danced for a bit, Clarke a little mesmerized between the alcohol and the feel of his hand featherlight across her skin as they moved. Eventually, they all switched partners, Clarke rotating to first Miller and then Murphy. 

But when the band switched to a slow song, Clarke found herself once again paired with Bellamy. With a small smile, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and put her other hand in his. His hand settled on her lower back and pulled her close. 

“Since when do you dance?” she asked a little breathless as Bellamy led her around the dance floor. 

“Since Murphy conned everyone into taking dance lessons before his wedding as to not embarrass him and Emori,” he smirked. Clarke leaned her head back in a laugh. Of course, Murphy would do something ridiculous like that. She looked over to where he was swaying with Emori — god, they looked so in love. Emori’s eyes were closed, her head resting against Murphy’s shoulder. And Murphy just had the most content look on his face, like he’d be happy slowly rocking to the melody with his arms around his wife forever. 

“It’s nice to see him happy,” she mused absentmindedly. As her eyes drifted to everyone else in their group who had paired off together, she amended,” It’s good to see everyone happy.” 

“What about you? Are you happy?” 

Clarke pulled back to look at him, and she was hit with the realization that she was happy — in a way she’d never quite managed in Boston. 

Suddenly, she could see her life here. Taking over her mom’s practice and continuing to do surgery at the hospital in Bay City, screaming at the TV with Miller and Raven when the Aggies play LSU, Sunday brunch at Greg’s Rise and Dine… 

And through every scenario, Bellamy was right there next to her, looking at her with those deep brown eyes and that expression Clarke could never quite read before — the look he was giving her right now. 

She was in love with Bellamy Blake. His stupid smirk, the way he challenged her at every turn, how she felt home every time she was with him…  _ well, shit.  _

They’d stopped moving at some point, just standing too close for comfort and yet not close enough. Clarke almost said the words right then and there. His eyes darted down to her mouth, just for a fraction of a second. She could lift her head just a couple of inches, and her lips would be on his. 

_ No.  _ She quickly stepped backward out of his arms, eyes wide and breath heavy. She couldn’t do this. They were friends, and friends did not almost tell each other they were in love with the other. It wouldn’t work out and then she’d leave again, and Clarke didn’t think her heart could take that. No, it was better to just stay friends. 

“I’m sorry… I, uh, I have to go.” She darted through the crowd, not waiting for a response and refusing to look back to see the heartbreak she felt written all over his face. 

_______________________ 

It happened on a Tuesday night. 

They’d spent the evening watching the Christmas movies the Hallmark Channel had continued to play even though it was three weeks into the new year. Abby had made jokes and poked at Clarke for not answering when Bellamy’s name lit up her phone. It had been a good day, one of the rare ones. 

Abby had retired to bed early feeling tired, giving Clarke a kiss on the forehead and Kane a kiss on the cheek. When the credits had rolled on the movie they’d finished watching, Clarke had gone to check on her mom while Kane had offered to put up the popcorn and straighten the kitchen. 

And once again Clarke’s entire world had collapsed under her feet. 

The next three days passed by in a haze. Clarke hadn’t cried — there’d been no time. She had a funeral to arrange and people to call. A visitation to host, her mother’s dress to pick out, a stepdad to look after, a clinic to keep running. 

And the distraction was good, honestly. The second she stopped to breathe, the tears threatened to fall and her chest tried to cave in. No, better to keep moving. 

Almost the whole town came to the funeral of the beloved Doctor Abby Griffin-Kane. They paid their respects and promised Clarke that they were there for her if she needed anything. Clarke ignored the whispers about how sad it was that she’d lost both of her parents before she turned 30, the pitying looks, the worried stares. 

But the night after her mother’s coffin was lowered into the ground, there was nothing else left to do but fall apart. Suddenly the house she grew up in was too quiet, too big. She had to get out, she had to escape. 

And so she found herself on Bellamy’s front porch, knocking on the glass of the screen door. Things had been complicated between them for the past few months. She’d pulled back after the fall festival, trying to minimize the time they’d spent alone together. It hurt and she could tell he was confused by her behavior, but she also knew it was necessary. 

Everything ends. And the best way to protect herself is to just keep that wall up, stay a safe distance, pretend he was just her friend. Except now he was one of the only people she had left. 

The second he opened the door and saw her standing there in her rumpled black dress, he pulled her to him. She went willingly, falling into his arms. 

They stood in the entryway as she finally let the tears fall. She clutched at his shirt like he was her lifeline in a storm, and in many ways he was. Bellamy just let her cry into his chest, one arm keeping her close to him while the other cradled the back of her head. Clarke could just hear him murmur soothing words into her hair.  _ You’re safe. I’ve got you. Let it out.  _

She didn’t know how long they stood there. But when she’d run out of tears to shed, Bellamy escorted her to his living room. Clarke followed numbly, unable to fully process anything around her. He sat her down on the couch while he went to get her a change of clothes — her favorite t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

He knelt down in front of her, helping her out of her heels. Then he motioned for her to lift her arms so he could help her out of her dress. She did as instructed in a haze, letting him pull her hands through the sleeves of the tshirt and maneuver the boxers up to her hips. 

When he was done, he sat down next to her and pulled her back to his chest with one arm while pulling the throw blanket from the back of the couch over them. She curled up almost in his lap at he ran his hands through her hair. 

He didn’t ask if she was okay. He didn’t try to get her to talk about it. He just held her together when she couldn’t, the vibrations of his soft humming lulling her to sleep. 

Over the course of the following few weeks, Clarke slept at Bellamy’s house more nights than not. Her own house was just… stifling. Every time she spent more than a couple of hours at home, she’d feel like the walls were caving in on her. Kane must have been feeling the same way — he’d been staying with his mom since the funeral. 

Her mom had left both the clinic and the house in her name, which meant Clarke had to decide what to do with each. It was stressful, and she’d been putting it off for as long as she could. Her old hospital in Boston had called — they had another opening, and they wanted to offer Clarke a slot. 

She could go back to Boston and her life there — her job, her friends. She’d stayed in touch with Josie and Gabriel since coming back to Arkadia. And she could pick up things where she left off with Niylah. It would be simple, easy… an escape. 

But then her mind traveled back to that first night in Bellamy’s store. The way he looked at her when he asked if she was going to run away again.  _ You’re good at that _ , he’d said. 

The sound of Bellamy closing the door on his way in shook Clarke out of her thoughts as she sat at his kitchen island. He came in, putting a hand on her shoulder as he passed. She fought the urge to lean into the touch. 

“What’s all that?” he asked, nodding at the haphazard pile of papers scattered around her laptop. 

“Legal paperwork for the clinic and the house. Mom left them both in my name, and I’ve been putting off what to do with them for long enough,” she sighed, putting her head in her hands. 

“What to do with them? Doesn’t the fact that she left them in your name eliminate most of the work to get it all settled?” he leaned his elbows on the counter across from her, looking confused. 

“Yes, that takes out some of the steps. But I still have to figure out whether I’m going to sell them or not. And if I sell, I’ll need to appraise both properties to figure out how to price them, and I need to do that before I call Monroe at the realtor’s because once I do, Lord knows the entire town will be talking about it within the hour...” she was rambling at that point, flustered. Bellamy cut her off. 

“Sell?” 

Clarke didn’t meet his gaze, not answering the question at first. “Bellamy…” 

“You’re leaving.” It was a statement, not a question. And Clarke watched as the confusion that was on his face had turned to hurt. She knew him well enough to know that anger was next. She stood up, bracing for the impending fight. 

“I don’t know, okay? I haven’t made up my mind, yet.” 

He scoffed, nodding before stalking out of the room. Clarke followed him, growing more frustrated. 

“What am I supposed to do here, Bellamy? I have a life in Boston — a job, friends…” 

“You have a life here, dammit!” 

Tears gathered, causing the telltale pinpricks to poke at the back of her eyes as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. “What life? My family is dead, Bellamy!” 

“ _ I thought I was your family _ !” he shouts, voice hoarse and neck straining. At that, they both go silent, chests heaving as they standoff across the living room. “I thought you were done running away, Princess,” said after a moment, quieter. He sounded resigned, as if Clarke’s decision had been made, as if there was nothing he could do to change her mind. 

“Give me a reason to stay.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them, obviously shocking Bellamy. 

“What?” 

“You heard me,” she said, lifting her chin almost in defiance. “Give me a reason to stay.” 

Without hesitation, he made the three strides across the room to get to her, took her face between his hands, and kissed her.

His mouth was soft against hers, warm and sweet and safe. This wasn’t an Earth-shattering kiss, it didn’t burn the world around her. No, it was like the Earth finally shifted into full focus. _ It was like coming home _ , she realized. 

“I think I love you,” she blurted out the second he pulled back, blinking. The slow smile that he gave her melted her as he pressed his forehead to hers. 

“I think I love you, too.” 

She leaned up to capture his lips with hers, and every thought she ever had about leaving Arkadia, leaving him, disappeared. 

_______________________ 

**_**two years later**_ **

This mural was going to be the death of her, and Clarke made a mental note to remind Bellamy that he owed her a shoulder massage for this. Though, it was technically her idea to pain the damn thing to begin with. But the wall behind the coffee counter needed some personality, and Clarke had thought it’d be the perfect spot for a painting. 

“Your castle is off-centered,” a familiar voice called from the doorway as the bell dinged. Clarke turned around so fast she almost fell off the countertop. She hopped down quickly and threw herself into her best friend’s arms. 

“You’re back early!” she all but squealed. 

Octavia’s deployment on her final tour was finally up, and she’d decided to move back to Arkadia to be closer to her brother. As Clarke stepped back, finally letting Octavia breath, she noticed the tree of a man standing a few steps behind her. 

“Clarke, this is my husband, Lincoln,” Octavia stepped aside, looking up at the man — Lincoln — with a look Clarke recognized fondly. It was the same way she’d catch Bellamy looking at her on occasion when he doesn’t think she’ll notice. 

Bellamy popped his head out of his office after hearing the commotion, and his eyes went wide when he saw O standing at the door with her arms outstretched. 

“Hey, Big Brother,” she smirked before launching herself at him for a hug. He spun her around, laughing while Clarke and Lincoln watched their significant others 

Later that night, Octavia and Clarke were sitting curled up together on the porch swing outside Bellamy and Clarke’s house. Bellamy had cooked dinner, and he and Lincoln were watching some history documentary while O and Clarke escaped outside to catch up. 

"Are you sure you don't want to watch with us, Princess?" Bellamy teased as Clarke gathered a throw blanket and two glasses of wine into her arms. 

"And interrupt your male bonding time? Wouldn't dream of it, babe." He hit her with that loving smile, and she couldn't help but lean in for a quick kiss before heading outside. 

The second Clarke sat down, Octavia was hitting her with that signature Blake smirk. 

“I know it’s been two years, but I had to wait to say it in person,” she said, and Clarke put her head in her hands already knowing where this was headed. “But I fucking told you so, babe. The weekend after that promposal disaster, and I  _ called _ you and my brother ending up together.” 

“Ugh, I know, I know. I was so convinced you were crazy, too,” Clarke laughed, looking at O through her fingers. The younger Blake reached out a hand to take one of Clarke’s. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather have as my sister,” she said with a loving smile, growing serious for a moment. Clarke reached out to pull her into a hug as Octavia amended, “Well, not technically my sister, yet. But you get what I mean.” 

“Actually…” Clarke trailed off, and Octavia pulled back quickly to gape at her. 

“Wait, did he—” But Clarke shook her head with a grin before she could finish her question. 

“Not yet, but Raven let it slip the other day that he asked her to help him pick out a ring. She thinks he’s waiting for my birthday.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face every time she thought about the idea of becoming Bellamy’s wife, of him being her husband. Once upon a time, the thought of settling down in Arkadia, the place where her dad, Wells, and her mom had died would have terrified her. 

And there were days when she got overwhelmed, when she was stressed and tired and wanted to run far away and fast. But those were the days she ran to Bellamy instead of Boston, or some other far-flung place. He’d wrap her in his arms and kiss her just as softly as he had two years ago, and she’d feel at peace again. 

After years of looking for every opportunity to escape, she’d finally found a reason to stay. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! 💕Thank you for reading — comments, kudos, and feedback is always appreciated. [Come scream about Bellarke with me on Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/changingthefairy-tale)


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